


Love You With My Hands Tied

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Anonymous Sex, BDSM, Biting, Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, First Time, M/M, Sex Club, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A club, a mask, and low lighting give Chris the opportunity he’s been waiting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Lady Gaga's "Teeth" and written for the anonymity square on my Kink Bingo 2010 card.

_Don’t be scared.  
I’ve done this before._

It’s not Chris’ first time at the club, but it’s his first time in a long time.  Mike hadn’t been into the whole BDSM scene, and while it wasn’t exactly a necessity for Chris, Mike is long gone now and Chris misses the visceral thrill of it a lot more than he misses Mike.  It’s the chance to take a few hours away from being Chris Pine, aspiring actor and current nobody, and just dominate the hell out of someone who craves his command.

The chances of him being recognized are slim to none, but he’s wearing a mask that covers the upper part of his face anyway.  It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but the power that comes with the feeling of anonymity is intoxicating.  He could be some sick bastard who gets off on fear and pain.  He isn’t, but he could be.  The leather pants and tight black shirt he’s wearing heighten the feeling of power – anywhere else, he’d look ridiculous, but here he feels like a sex god.

The subs, both men and women, are already lined up on stage, the club mistress pushing each of them to their knees and posing them to show off their assets.  She’ll pick the Doms to come up and choose a partner, so the second she turns back to face the audience, Chris fixes her with his best seductive smile, looking up coyly through his lashes.

She smirks like she knows what he’s doing, but it works anyway – he’s the first one chosen and he gets his pick of the men and women on offer.  It’s been a while since he’s been with a woman, so he gravitates toward a woman with lush curves kneeling near the end of the line.  She keeps her eyes demurely on the ground as he approaches her, looks her over.  He’s about to indicate his approval to the club mistress when the man kneeling next to her catches his eye.   He’s wearing nothing but a pair of expensive looking black boxer briefs and a leather cuff around each wrist, but he doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable at being practically naked in front of a crowd.

Chris knows him.  It takes him a few long seconds to place him, but he’s the guy Chris sees at the gym sometimes, the one that’s always carrying a yoga mat.  He’s tall and lean and strong-featured, and truth be told, Chris has had a bit of a crush on him since he first bumped into him and nearly tripped over his own feet in shock.  He’s toyed with the idea of asking him out, but the guy is untouchably gorgeous and aloof and does _yoga_ , for Christ’s sake, no way is he going to go out with a clumsy, red-meat-eating closet nerd like Chris.

But now, though.  Now he’s gazing up at Chris’ body with undisguised hunger in his eyes, no recognition at all.  Despite the fact that Chris is still completely clothed, he feels utterly stripped by those dark brown eyes even though the man’s posture is still submissive.  Chris crouches down and the man’s eyes follow him.  He’s got to be a switch – Chris has been doing this long enough to be able to tell – because he’s looking at Chris like he’s sizing him up for a leather harness.  Too bad for him, though, because Chris will be the one in control tonight.  Even better, to dominate someone who’s imagining dominating him.

Chris grabs the man’s shoulders, runs his hands down his arms roughly, squeezing at his biceps.  He tugs at the dark-haired man until he’s on all fours and runs a hand up his belly, down his thighs.  Back up to his crotch, lightly squeezing his balls like a judge at a dog show.  Chris nearly laughs aloud at the thought, and just for good measure, he tilts the man’s face toward his and pulls his jaw open, checking his teeth.  It makes him snarl and flush with indignation but he lets Chris manhandle him without resistance.  Oh, Chris is _really_ going to enjoy this.

Even though he knows the answer, he quietly asks, “You want this, boy?”  The man nods, slowly and deliberately. 

Chris glances over at the club mistress, who looks practically gleeful.  “You two make quite a pair,” she says, handing him an old-fashioned key with a small tag that reads #8. 

Chris looks back down at the man still obediently on all fours and says, “Come.”  He complies, smoothly rising to his feet, and the easy flex of his muscles makes Chris’ breath catch.  Chris doesn’t have to look back to know the man is following him, barely a step behind as they wend their way through the crowd to room number eight in the back of the club.

Once there, Chris unlocks the door and gestures for the other man to go in.  The room is lit by a series of heavily shaded lamps.  The furniture and the finishings are all Victorian in style, if not in modesty, and most of the floor space is taken up by a huge four-poster mahogany bed in the center of the room.  Chris grins at the sight, though he’s not quite ready to avail himself of the bed just yet.  He’s got this man for the next few hours, and he intends to be thorough.

The man stands silently by one of the taller lamps, his hands clasped behind his back, and Chris asks, “What’s your name?”

“Zach,” he says quietly, and the brief glimmer of surprise in his eyes reveals that he didn’t intend to give Chris his real name.

Not that Chris intends to use it much.  Out loud, anyway.  “What was that, boy?” he growls, gripping Zach hard by hair at the base of his skull and getting right in his face.

“My name is Zach, _sir_ ,” he gasps, and Chris grins.  He looks around the room until he sees a rope hanging from a sturdy hook in the ceiling.  Still holding Zach by the back of the neck, he guides him to stand under the hook, tugging the rope down and attaching the clip on the end to the D-rings on Zach’s cuffs.  The other end of the rope he pulls tight and secures to a cleat on the wall, not supporting Zach’s weight but enough to keep his arms held up in the air, keep the lines of his body nice and taut as Chris looks him over.

He drags the nearest lamp over and pulls the shade off.  The light from the bare bulb casts a harsh yellow glare, but it doesn’t make Zach’s body any less appealing.  Chris has only gotten quick glimpses before as Zach has been warming up or cooling down at the gym, but now he can feast his eyes without shame.  And god, is it a beautiful sight.

His skin is pale – a strange color in the sickly lamplight – but smooth, thatched with dark whorls of hair at his upper chest, around his nipples, peeking out of the top of his shorts, a thin line of hair bisecting his belly.  He shifts his weight a little to keep his balance and it throws his abs into sharp relief.  Fuck, the yoga has obviously been good to him, because the muscle tone on that gorgeous body is pretty much perfect.  Chris had intended just to look for a while longer, but now he has to touch.  He strokes his fingers down Zach’s chest too lightly, making the muscles jump under the skin and Zach squirms a little in his bonds.

Chris steps back again and is shocked to see that Zach is nearly panting already.  “Oh,” Chris murmurs with a smile.  “You like this.  Being on display.”

“Yes, sir,” Zach replies quietly but confidently, and Chris should maybe worry about that little smirk on the other man’s face.  But Chris has Zach right where he wants him and doesn’t intend to take him down until Chris has gotten his fill of looking.

He circles around to the back, letting his hands wander over Zach’s powerful shoulders and arms, now pulled impotently toward the ceiling.  The tapering lines of his back, leading to a firm, compact little ass that Chris just has to squeeze.  It feels so good in his hands that he can’t resist pressing his leather-clad hips to it, grinding briefly against Zach’s backside until the other man moans a little and starts to thrust back.  Though it pains him, Chris pulls away; he needs to savor every moment until he’s buried deep in that sweet, tight ass.

Circling back around, he lets his eyes wander down Zach’s legs.  It takes a while – they seem to go on forever.  Soon, though, Chris gets distracted by the growing bulge in those boxer briefs.  He pulls them down just enough to free Zach’s cock, tempering the sigh of relief with a whimper when Chris lets the elastic of the waistband snap back over his balls.

It’s a gorgeous cock – the perfect size, flushed a tempting crimson all the way up to the plump head – and Chris has to briefly re-evaluate his plans.  _Fuck_ would it feel good to ride that thing with Zach strapped immobilized to the bed.  Or better yet, make Zach fuck him with it, Chris’ hand around his throat as Zach thrusts into him at whatever tempo Chris demands.

The endless possibilities are fogging Chris’ brain, and he has to take a step back to clear his head.  With the full picture in front of him, it occurs to him what a rare opportunity this is: the guy he’s been crushing on, bound and bare in front of him with no idea who Chris is.  He could do everything he’s fantasized about – punish him, pleasure him, a little (or a lot) of both – and Zach will have no idea that it’s the bumbling wannabe actor he passes by at the gym twice a week.  The rush of power goes straight to his gut, and Chris has to reach down and rub himself through his pants.

Zach is watching him with attentive eyes throughout this and Chris grins.  Time to narrow down his options.  “So we know you like to be looked at.  What else do you like, boy?”

Zach shivers – he obviously didn’t expect to be asked his opinion.  “Biting.  Getting my face fucked.  Spanking, especially over a knee.  And kissing.”

Oh yes, kissing.  Chris can’t believe he’s been so thoughtless.  Without giving any warning, he attacks Zach’s mouth with his own and Zach opens to him immediately.  It’s a loud, punishing kiss, Chris biting at Zach’s lips and tongue, but Zach just growls into it and runs his tongue along Chris’ teeth.  When Chris pulls back a bit, Zach tries to sway forward to follow him but is stopped short by the rope, and Chris chuckles softly at the irritation on his face.  “You got that one for free.  The next one you’ll have to earn.”

Zach bites back a snarl and a fresh wave of lust washes over Chris.  He strips off his shirt, careful to keep the mask in place, and tosses it away, relishing the way Zach’s eyes go wide and dark when he does.  The pants are starting to feel confining, but he wants to keep them on a little longer – he almost never gets to wear them, and they make his pale, scrawny chicken legs look hotter.  Also, they act as a cushion against the threadbare carpet as Chris kneels at Zach’s feet, smirking up at him as he pulls the bound man’s underwear down and off.

Chris presses his face to Zach’s crotch, inhaling the rich, musky scent of him and Zach gasps.  It gives Chris an idea.  “No more noise,” he says, poking out his tongue to lick teasingly at the head of the other man’s cock.  “The first sound you make, I stop.”

That has Zach looking far less confident, but he nods.  Chris grins and gets down to business, licking around the base to give the other man a little time to settle.  He holds Zach’s hips and lets his thumbs rub against sharp hipbones as he trails his lips up and down the shaft, peppering Zach’s length with soft, sucking kisses.  Zach’s whole body twitches and sways, but he stays silent.

He makes it a lot longer than Chris imagined he would, through long minutes of teasing licks and gentle bites.  Even when Chris takes Zach’s cock full in his mouth, bringing up his hand to jack him as he sucks, the only thing Chris hears above him is strangled breathing and the creak of the rope against the ceiling hook.  It’s not until Chris’ fingers start to slip back beneath Zach’s balls and press into his taint that Zach moans –a choked, aborted sound that Zach tries to cover, but Chris is already pulling off with a loud, wet pop.  When he speaks, he’s surprised at the hoarseness in his own voice.  “Not bad.  Found your weakness though, didn’t I?”

Zach shuts his eyes and turns away slightly, and Chris raises his eyes to Zach’s arms still dangling from the rope.  Shit, Chris thinks, he can’t have much feeling left in his hands.  Zach hasn’t complained, but Chris doesn’t want to risk any damage – they’re nice hands, after all, slender and long-fingered.  As Zach gets his breath back, Chris reaches up and unhooks the cuffs from the rope, bringing the other man’s hands down carefully.

Zach groans loudly and flexes his fingers as the blood pours back into his hands.  Chris winces to imagine the severe case of pins and needles Zach has to be feeling right about now, so he takes one of Zach’s hands in his own and starts to rub it.  It only makes Zach groan louder, and Chris has another flash of inspiration.  He drags his lips across the inside of Zach’s middle and index finger before engulfing them in his mouth and laving them with his tongue.  Zach gasps, his nerve endings presumably so confused that he doesn’t know whether the sensation is pleasure or pain.

Chris keeps a hold of his wrist behind the cuff and leads him toward the bed.  The leather pants are really starting to become confining now, so he orders Zach to take them off.  His still-numb fingers fumble slightly with the fastenings, and Chris takes a quick glance at the bed.  It’s pretty high up off the ground – too high for him to be able to put Zach over his knee comfortably.  It’s a damn shame, but Chris will just have to figure something else out as he goes along.

Zach has the pants pooled down around his ankles now and Chris carefully steps out of them.  Without any word from Chris, Zach carefully folds the pants and sets them on the bedside table without rising from his knees.  Chris feels a slight pang in his chest – maybe he’s reading too much into it, but he feels like he’s earned some small measure of trust from Zach.

He drags a hand through Zach’s hair, mussing it a little so that a few strands fall across his eyes.  “So gorgeous,” Chris murmurs, letting his thumb brush lightly across Zach’s lower lip, swollen from biting it in an attempt to stay quiet.  Fuck, Chris thinks, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea – the plan wasn’t to fall even _harder_ for Zach.

“Up,” Chris says, a little more sternly, and Zach obeys.  “You’ve been a good boy – you deserve a reward.”  It’s as good an excuse as any for Chris to lean in and brush their lips together, suckling gently at Zach’s mouth.  They’re both naked now, and Chris resists the urge to crush their bodies together and rut until they’re both sated.  Zach seems to have similar intentions, licking into Chris’ mouth and slanting his head to deepen the kiss.  Chris isn’t sure if Zach is trying to test his limits or just really, really loves to kiss, but either way, Chris figures it’s time to tighten the leash.

He pulls back and Zach follows him instinctively, nearly falling forward in his eagerness.  Chris just pushes him back, wagging his finger at Zach like he’s a naughty child.  “Ah ah ah, getting greedy there, weren’t you?  And what do greedy boys get?”

Zach just shrugs and Chris is in his face in an instant, reaching a hand up to twist his nipple brutally.  “I’ll give you one more chance to answer.  What do greedy boys get?”

“I don’t _know_ , sir,” Zach grits out through clenched teeth and Chris lets go.  Zach’s going to be feeling that one every time he takes a deep breath and Chris feels a buzz of excitement rush through him at the thought.

“Nothing,” Chris answers after a long moment of charged silence.  “They get nothing.  They have to sit on their hands and watch while I jerk myself off.”  He reaches down and begins stroking himself in long, slow pulls.  “They don’t even get to taste my cum.  Is that what you want?”

“N-no, sir,” Zach stammers, his eyes fixed on Chris’ cock.

“Are you a greedy boy?”

“No, sir.”

“Glad to hear it,” Chris says, still fisting his cock.  It sorely needs the attention, which gives him an idea…  “Lie on the bed, face up, head on the pillows.  Touch your dick and you don’t get to come at all tonight.”

Zach clambers up onto the bed quickly, all awkward limbs and knobby knees for a second before he arranges himself as Chris demanded, his arms by his sides and his fingers lightly digging into the sheets beneath him.

“Good boy,” Chris murmurs, kneeling up on the bed and straddling Zach’s chest.  He sees the anticipation light up Zach’s eyes when he realizes what’s coming.  “I’m spoiling you, really.  I’m not sure you deserve my cock.”

“Please, sir!” Zach gasps, looking frantic at the thought of being denied, and if it’s an act, it’s a damned good one.

Chris grasps him by the chin, tilting his head up.  “Open your mouth, boy.”

Zach does, looking immensely relieved, and Chris cants his hips forward, gripping his cock again and rubbing the head against Zach’s plush lower lip.  He looks like he wants to rear up and just swallow Chris down, but he stays still. 

“Perfect,” Chris whispers.  “Don’t suck yet.  Just let it rest on your tongue.”  Chris presses down gently on his cock, feeling the texture of Zach’s tongue against the sensitive spot on the underside and sighing with pleasure.  He lets the anticipation build for both of them until his toes are curling with the effort of keeping still.

Finally, Chris lets go of his cock and reaches forward to grip the thick, solid headboard.  He nods to Zach and begins to thrust into his mouth.  The wet heat of it is brain-meltingly perfect, and Chris moans at the thought of doing this – just this, so torturously slow – all night.  Soon, though, Zach is sucking on his dick like there’s a prize in the center and Chris can’t help it, his hips start to move faster and harder.

When Zach gags on a particularly deep thrust, Chris tries to pull off a little, let Zach recover, but Zach just cranes his head up to keep Chris in his mouth.  And if that’s the way Zach wants it, who is Chris to deny him?  He keeps one hand on the headboard but cups the other around the back of Zach’s head.  “I’m gonna…” Chris starts, but Zach nods before he can finish the sentence.  As he pushes forward, Zach moans and something in his throat gives way and suddenly Chris is _all_ the way in, Zach’s nose buried in his pubes.  “Holy _fuck_ ,” he gasps, truly impressed.

Zach’s face is bright red and his eyes are watering, but he’s not panicking or making any move to shove Chris away, so Chris starts rocking his hips.  Soon enough he can’t keep his own mouth shut, babbling a stream of “Fuck yeah, just like that, choke it down, baby, _unnnnh_ , so fucking _good_.”  His vision goes gray around the edges every time Zach gags around the head of his cock and in no time at all, his balls start to tighten with impending climax.  It’s only the mental image of fucking that beautiful ass that gets Chris to pull out in time, and it takes all the strength he’s got to keep from collapsing onto Zach.

“S-so good,” he moans.  “Such a good boy for me.”  He rolls off Zach and ends up sitting next to him with his back against the headboard as they both pant helplessly.  Zach’s fingers are nearly tearing holes in the sheets now, his cock hard and leaking against his belly.  Well, no one could accuse him of lying about the face fucking.

When Chris has some measure of control over himself again, he grunts, “Hands and knees.”  Zach complies, but Chris can see how badly he wants to touch himself.  He takes pity on him, giving Zach’s cock a good, firm squeeze that sets Zach’s hips juddering before he takes his hand away.  “Almost done,” Chris says, plucking a condom and a bottle of lube from the bedside table.  “Can’t wait any more.”

Chris rolls the condom on quickly and coats himself in lube.  He smears more of it around Zach’s hole and, unable to wait, rubs the tip of his cock in the hot, slippery cleft of Zach’s ass.  “Does my boy need to be stretched?”

“No, sir,” Zach croaks, his voice completely wrecked.

He may have said no, but Chris isn’t exactly small.  It takes some doing to work the head of his cock past the ring of muscle, but _god_ , when he does, it’s perfect.  Chris pushes in slowly, digging his fingers into Zach’s hips at the tight, stuttering friction.  When Chris starts rocking his own hips, Zach groans and sways back, setting up a tentative rhythm until Chris is buried to the hilt.  He stills for a moment, leaning down to bite at Zach’s shoulders.

Zach hisses and arches his back, shifting Chris inside him and Chris clings with his teeth as he starts to thrust.  Soon he has to rear back on his knees for better leverage, so he uses his hands instead, spanking hard on the swell of Zach’s ass every few thrusts.  Within minutes, it turns a delicious rosy pink beneath his hands, and he rubs his palm roughly over the abused skin to hear the tortured moan it draws out of Zach.

Just as Chris’ hand his really starting to sting, he becomes aware that the rough grunts from further up the bed are trying to turn into words.  “Please, sir—Touch—” Zach gasps.  “ _Need_.  Can’t—”

Chris slows the tempo and tugs at Zach’s shoulders until he’s kneeling with his back pressed to Chris’ chest.  Chris helps Zach turn for a kiss, practically his whole upper body twisted around and it looks like it should be painful, but Zach is latched on to Chris’ mouth like it’s his only source of oxygen.  “Can you come like this?” Chris asks against Zach’s lips.  “Without a hand on you?”

Zach shakes his head, his mouth trying to form a “no, sir” but not quite managing it.  Chris helps Zach lift up a little, starts pistoning his hips frantically and reaches for Zach’s neglected cock.  He doesn’t even need to stroke, just lets Zach fuck into his fist as Chris fucks him, and soon Zach’s grunts are going up in pitch, his body curling in on itself.  He’s painfully close, and Chris is finished teasing him. 

“Come, boy.”

He starts pulsing in Chris’ hand the second he finishes speaking, and Chris slows his hips to let Zach ride it out at his own pace.  When the shaking starts to calm, Zach’s upper body goes limp, but he rises up on his knees to give Chris room to thrust.  It’s a considerate move, but it’s not enough, and Chris quickly manhandles Zach’s pliant body until he’s on his back.  Chris plunges back in and Zach groans, low and rough, but he lifts his knees toward his chest to help Chris go deeper.

If possible, Zach looks even more beautiful like this, utterly fucked out but still offering himself up for Chris’ pleasure.  Chris has the briefest mental image of pulling out, stripping off the condom, and coming all over that taut belly, but the thought alone is enough to send him over the edge.  Stars burst behind his eyes as his whole world narrows down to the hot waves of bliss coursing through him.  He howls and buries himself deep in Zach, thrusting weakly until it finally becomes too much.

The way he ends up flopped on top of Zach’s chest is somewhat less than fearsomely dominating, but Chris can’t find it in himself to give a fuck.  He mouths at the skin beneath his lips until Zach makes a soft pleading sound.  By now, Chris knows what he wants.  “Amazing,” Chris groans, scooting up until his face is level with Zach’s.  “Take anything you want, boy.  It’s yours.”

He’s not surprised at all when Zach reaches up a hand and pulls Chris’ head down for a long, lazy kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

The next week, he girds his loins (entirely metaphorically) for his first visit to the gym.  He flinches around every corner, half expecting to see Zach’s long, lovely body contorted perfectly into some ungodly position – or, god help him, downward-facing dog – but no Zach.  The same thing at the end of the week.  So on the third time, he’s completely unprepared to spot the man coming out of the showers as Chris walks into the locker room to change.  He’s pretty sure Zach didn’t hear the little squeak that may or may not have come out of his mouth when the other man walked by, clad in nothing but a towel, the bites and bruises Chris gave him nearly faded.

As he sheds his jeans for a pair of basketball shorts, Chris recognizes the irony in the fact that he didn’t blink an eye at fucking Zach’s face at the club, but can’t even get up the courage to look him in the eye in normal life.  He takes a long time getting ready, slowly pulling on his socks and lacing up his tennis shoes until he figures Zach must be dressed and gone.  It’s going to be tougher than he thought, seeing Zach on a regular basis now that Chris knows exactly what he looks like with Chris’ cock down his throat, what he sounds like when he comes.

He’s just finished reapplying deodorant when he hears a quiet “Um, hi.”  Chris looks up and, huh, Zach’s nervous voice is much, much different than his tie-me-up-and-fuck-me-sir voice.  At least he’s dressed now.

“Buh?” is all Chris can manage, and he knows his face is going red.

But Zach’s face is flushed, too.  “It was you, wasn’t it?” he asks quickly.  “At the club.  In the… the mask.”

Chris starts to nod before he can think of a better response, like running the hell out of the locker room.  “You knew?”

“I kind of guessed, yeah.”

“Wh— How?”

Zach smirks, but there’s no smugness in it.  “Those eyes are kind of distinctive.  Plus, you’ve got a mole on your side…”  Chris’ face must have registered surprise, because Zach goes on quickly.  “Oh god, now I sound like some kind of stalker.  Just, sometimes when you change here, I can see…   Fuck, this is _not_ going well.”

“If you knew, why didn’t you—”

“Say something?  I didn’t figure it out right away, and by the time I did, I was pretty well distracted.  Plus, um.  I’ve kind of had this crush on you.”

He says it tentatively, almost as a question, and Chris wonders how it is that two grown men who are so comfortable exploring their sexuality can’t have an actual conversation without sounding like middle-schoolers.  “You… on me?”

“Until you, y’know, picked me, I thought you were straight.  And I learned pretty early on not to approach straight guys at the gym.”

“Yeah, I guess that would be… not good.”  Did he just think middle school?  Fourth grade, tops.

“So, um.”  Zach glances around, but there’s no one else there, so he sits on the bench next to Chris.  “I really enjoyed myself the other night.  If you couldn’t tell.”  Chris nods dumbly.  “And I have no idea whether that could translate into a daytime, non-spanky thing, but you have a copy of _Narcissus and Goldmund_ sticking out of your gym bag and that pretty much convinced me that if I didn’t at least try to ask you out, I’d regret it.  Shit, I don’t even know your name.”

“Chris.  It’s Chris.  Pine.”

“Zach Quinto,” he says, extending a hand.  “Though you already knew that.  Well, part of it, at least.”

“What,” Chris tries, but suddenly flashes back to calling Zach a _greedy boy_ and it stops his language processing centers dead.  “What, um.  Do you… eat?”  Fucking brilliant.

“Was that ‘ _do_ I eat’ or ‘ _what_ do I eat?’”

“Yes.”

Zach laughs, but his smile is completely free of the mockery Chris richly deserves.  “Yes, I eat.  Could fucking kill for a cheeseburger right now, actually.  Yoga really hollows me out.”

Finally, something Chris’ addled brain can work with.  He stands, confidently.  “Okay.  Let’s go get cheeseburgers.”

Zach stands too, gesturing vaguely at Chris’ outfit.  “Were you, uh, going to work out?”

Chris looks down at his ratty t-shirt and shorts and, for the love of god, he has no idea why Zach is still standing around talking to the giant, idiotic Chris-shaped mess in front of him.  “Change of plans?”

Zach shrugs, grinning.  “Works for me.  You want to change clothes, or just go like that?”

Chris takes a deep breath, and then takes the time to form a full sentence in his head.  “Sure you won’t be embarrassed to be seen with me like this?”

“It’s just cheeseburgers,” Zach says.  “My reputation will survive.”

Before he can say anything else monumentally stupid, Chris starts shoving his belongings hastily in his gym bag.  He yanks at the zipper so hard it breaks, so he just holds it closed and hopes nothing comes flying out.  Zach is waiting for him by the door, and they walk out together, past the strip-aerobics class gyrating purposefully to some Lady Gaga song and out into the bright afternoon sunlight.


End file.
